I Trust You
by The Skinny
Summary: Freddie and I were making our way home. I was high on the feeling of laughing all night and being with him. But something was off. Or, I guess, something wasn't off. That's what made it odd. As much as I hated to admit it, I was warming up to the dork.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay. So, I rewrote this whole story. Kept the basic outline, just edited a ton. I changed it to a first person point of view. I think it's much better now. Let me know what you think.****(8**

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><p>It all happened so fast I can't even remember it clearly.<p>

Freddie and I had just polished off a record breaking two large pizzas at the new Italian joint across from the Groovy Smoothie and we were making our way home. I was high on the feeling of laughing all night and being with him. But something was off. Or, I guess, something wasn't off. That's what made it odd. As much as I hated to admit it, I was warming up to the dork. The thought frightened me and made me ridiculously happy all at once.

It was late when we finally stumbled into the lobby of Bushwell Plaza. Ignoring Lewbert's banshee screams, we clamored up the stairs, making our way to the eighth floor. Freddie tripped on the last stair and we tried to stifle our obnoxious laughter, failing miserably. I noticed that we had been holding hands for who knows how long. It made my heart beat erratically. _Whoa. When did that happen?_

"That was… really fun" Freddie muttered over a breathy laugh. This was starting to feel so much like a date, I couldn't breathe. _Well, technically, it is a date, right? Breathe, Puckett, BREATHE._

"It was. I made a lot of progress tonight. I beat you in a pizza eating contest, the pool game, pinball, ping pong. Oh! And let's not forget the arm wrestle that resulted in _you_ picking up the tab." I smiled a little when he rolled his eyes. He laughed, nervously, and I huffed out my signature sigh. "Well Fredweird, you better go inside before you're mommy worries herself to death. It's after eleven, I'm surprised she hasn't called the cops."

"Ah, but alas, my mom's out of town. She went to a convention for… I don't know, something stupid. Point is, I'm free for three more days."

"Nice. Enjoy it while you can. She'll be back before you know it." I rubbed my thumb against the back of his hand and I felt the muscles in his fingers tense.

He sighed dramatically "That's what I'm afraid of…" I began to giggle, and he started laughing. And then we were both laughing and snorting uncontrollably. I had all my weight on him. If he hadn't have been holding me up, I would have tumbled to the ground.

When the giggles died down, he released my hand to rub the back of his neck and look right into my eyes, as if he was expecting something. But what the dork was expecting, exactly, I didn't know

I saw him take a deep breath and mutter something to himself, but I still had no clue what he was planning. So when he took a step closer and leaned down in an action that looked an awful lot like the initiation of a kiss, I acted way before I could think. My eyes widened and I took two steps back, immediately regretting it. His eyes shot open, the look of rejection evident on his face, and I felt my heart shrivel with guilt, like someone was stomping on it. _Holy shit. Samantha Puckett, you just rejected Fredward Benson. You probably broke the dork, he can't deal with rejection! Stupid, stupid Sam._

It was his turn to step back, and when he did, I reached out to grab his arm. "Wait Freddie I-"

He cut me off. "-You know, we _are_ going out. Going out as in, you're my girlfriend and I'm you're boyfriend. And, we've been boyfriend and girlfriend for a few weeks, right? And, usually, girlfriends kiss their boyfriends. Or, I don't know, that's what the movies have taught me." I reluctantly let go of his wrist. He turned around and began the long process of unlocking his overly protected door.

"Come on Fred, it's not like that. It just… surprised me a little, that's all." I need him to turn around, because I hate talking to his back.

He didn't turn around. He kept his back to me. He spoke softly, "It seems like whenever I try to kiss you, there's always an excuse. You have a cold, or the flu, or the plague, or you're 'a little surprised'. I guess… .I'm just tired of excuses," He turned towards me, suddenly, "It's not that you're afraid to kiss me. I know you, Sam. It's more than that, much more." He turned around again. "But, to be honest, I don't plan on sticking around to find out what it is." He opened the door before I could respond, slamming it and leaving me alone in the hall. Just me, and the echo.

Truthfully, I felt like crying. I felt like curling up and bawling myself dry. I felt like pounding on his door, begging him to come out and hold my hand again.

But, realistically, I'm a Puckett, and women of the Puckett family never cry. So instead, I picked Carly's lock, walked inside, and collapsed on the couch.

Because that's how I deal with difficult situations. I sleep.

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><p><strong>Don't forget to <span>REVIEW!<span> (8**


	2. Chapter 2

**Oh. I love this story so much more now. I just trimmed a little here, trimmed a little there, and voila. A whole new look for this wonderful story. (:Read, drink it all in. Then, review. Pretty please, click that review button. **

Note: There's a point of view change in here. But I'm sure you guys can figure it out, because I marked it in** _BOLD, ITALIC LETTERS._**

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><p><em><strong>Sam<strong>_

I took a deep breath before knocking on the all too familiar door. Silently, I prayed that he wasn't home. Then I could come back tomorrow, or the next day. Or the next, next day…

But I heard the locks begin to click open, and I knew there was no getting out of this.

I heard the door swing open, and I kept my eyes on the ground. I could hear his light breathing. Right now, that was the only sound in the world.

Eventually, I had to look up. I looked right into his eyes. _Those stupid, stupid, brown eyes. _I was going to try to smile, ease the tension a bit. But I couldn't even muster up a half smile. He looked so serious, it made my stomach churn.

"Can I come in, Fred? Can we… talk?" I decided to use the nickname that was closest to his real name, to make sure I didn't make him angrier than he already was.

"You don't have to come in. We can talk right here." He leaned against the door frame, showing me that he wasn't planning on moving.

"Okay, I'm not good at this kind of stuff. I never have been. I probably never will be. But I can try. "I glanced up at him, taking his silence as a sign to keep going.

_Oh goody. Here comes the part when I get to say sorry. Come on, Sam, you can do it. _I buried my face in my hands, avoiding his gaze. I began to recite the speech I had practiced in my head a million times the night before. "I'm…. sorry. I just-"

"Sam, why won't you kiss me?" He cut me off with the blunt question. His boldness surprised me. _Damn it. He wasn't supposed to interrupt me. I didn't plan for that._

"I… Um… I-I'm…. Uhhh." I babbled like an idiot, searching my head for something, _anything,_ that he would accept as an answer.

"I'm going to take wild guess. Here goes: You feel like you can't trust me. Is that it? Did I get it?" He spoke softly, but his words were deafening.

His words struck a target in my heart, dead on. He was right. I tried to avoid his gaze as I shrugged a little. "Um, maybe. I don't know," I mumbled.

He sighed before walking into the kitchen, away from me.

I was a little angry now. "God, will you quit walking away from me?" I closed the door and stomped over to where he was. We were both in the kitchen now, and I wondered if it was possible to continue my speech at this point. "I just… I don't know what you want from me." I said it like a little kid. I _felt _like a little kid.

He could tell I was on a short fuse. He chose his words carefully. " I want you to know that you can trust me. I need you to know that, Sam. You can trust me." He took a small step closer to me.

I felt vulnerable, and I hate feeling vulnerable. "I know that I can trust you, Dork. But obviously, for unknown reasons, I have some sorts of trust issues. Sorry to disappoint, but I can't change that fast." I bit the inside of my cheek and sunk back against the counter, leaning against it.

"Oh believe me, I am not asking you to change. I just needed you to know. You can trust me, Sam. With anything." I glanced up and caught his gaze. We stayed like that for a while. I quickly broke our eye contact, turning my head away from him.

I bobbed my shoulders and twisted my mouth to the side. "I guess…. I can trust you. I mean… I can learn, at least." I trained my eyes on the floor, suddenly fascinated with the hole in my shoe. I could see a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. I could tell he felt triumphant.

He was the first to speak after what feels like an hour of quiet. "Are you hungry?" That's one thing I've always liked about the dork; he never dwells.

I looked up at him, smirking before replying, "I'm always hungry."

He opened the freezer, pulling out a carton of cake batter ice cream. He smirked as he jokingly offered it to me, knowing I would never turn it down. I snatched the carton out of his hand and ran into the living room, falling heavily on the couch. _Well look at that. I'm still Sam. _He laughed at my behavior, following me with two spoons.

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><p><em><strong>Freddie.<strong>_

Sam had finished her snacking for the day and I had finished my previously interrupted House marathon. We were sitting on the couch, smiling and laughing like two idiots in love. I traced patterns on her arm as we mumbled about the epic show we had just filled our adolescent brains with. She tries repeatedly to start a game of 20 questions, without much luck. She throws a few unnecessary punches, of course, because she's Sam, and unnecessary punches are her thing.

It's 10 o' clock when Sam loudly declares that she needs her beauty sleep. I begin to quickly clean up. She just sits and lazily rubs her stomach, watching me with a content look on her face. I grabbed her hand, leading her to my room. Or, as she likes to call it, the Fortress of Dorkitude.

She made her way over to my dresser, opening the bottom drawer that I had cleared out long ago so she would have a place to keep her belongings for our impromptu sleepovers, which usually involved her sneaking through the window at midnight and leaving out the window at 3:00 AM, just in case my hawk of a Mother decided to do one of her 4:00 AM fire drills.

After taking out an old t-shirt of mine and black shorts she looked at me, waiting for me to leave. "Oh, right. Uhh... Make yourself at home. "I said as I walked into my bathroom to brush my teeth.

"I would have made myself at home anyway, Dweeb. " Sam replied loudly as she changed. I chuckled as I heard her jump onto my bed.

When I walked back into the room a few minutes later, she was half asleep. She lifted her head and smiled at me, motioning to the spot next to her before dropping her head, admitting defeat to the dream world. _Once Sam decides to sleep, nothing can stop her._

I stripped down to my boxers and climbed in beside her, because I'm her boyfriend and I'm allowed to do that. She throws an arm over my chest and tangles her legs with mine. Her feet are freezing, like always. I laugh and wrap my arm around her, just because I can.

I fall into a fitful sleep that is often interrupted by a sharp kick to the shin, but I've pretty much grown immune to that by now. Occasionally, I wake up and listen to her talk in her sleep. Repeatedly, she mumbles the phrase, "I'm happy, and warm."

She really is a child. A complete and utter child. _And that's why I love her._


	3. Epilogue

**The epilogue. My favorite part of this story. Yes yes, I love it. Do my dear readers love it as much as I do? I'll never know unless you tell me. (8**

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><p>The sun filtering through the shutters wakes me from my slumber. The first thing that I noticed is that my feet were cold. The second thing that I noticed is that Freddie isn't next to me. And the third thing that I noticed is that the shower is running. I, being the genius that I am, put two and two together and figure that he must have gotten up to take a shower.<p>

I exhale deeply as I scan the memory of yesterday through my mind. I blush, realizing how corny the whole thing was. I scramble out of Freddie's bed and make my way to his mirror, quickly fixing my messy locks. _That's right. Gotta keep up the appearance._

Ten minutes later I'm walking around his room, pondering his dorky knick-knacks, when I hear the shower squeak off. I tiptoe carefully up to the bathroom door and press my ear against it. I can faintly make out Freddie humming _Sweet Caroline_ by that famous Neil Whatever Jewish guy. I smile and roll my eyes, stepping away. Sighing, I slide down the wall next to the door.

I take a deep breath and lean my head back, staring at his ceiling. "I trust Freddie. I do." I whisper to myself. I nod a couple of times, still breathing deeply.

_Come on, Sam. It's time to not be a chicken._ I stand up, determination now gracing my awkward stance. I walk up to his bathroom door and turn the knob, whipping it open. _Samantha Puckett always whips open doors._

The first thing that I noticed is Freddie, facing the mirror, messing around with his hair, his back towards me. The second thing that I noticed is his only articles of clothing, a dark blue towel wrapped around his hips. _I guess I could have knocked… _The third thing I noticed is Fredweird seeing my reflection in the mirror. He turned around to face me, his left hand flying to hold the loose towel in place.

"Jesus, Sam, what are you doing?" I let out a hearty Sam laugh at the embarrassed look on his face. I leaned against the door frame and smiled at him. "I trust you." I finally say it, strongly and surely.

His brow furrows in confusion. "What? Does this have to happen now? I'm kind of… busy!" He speaks quickly while motioning to himself and his current state.

I shrug and walk up to him, backing him up against the counter. Grinning, I placed my hands on either side of his body, trapping him (but not in a creepy way). I lean into him, getting as close as I physically can.

"I trust you." I say again, barely whispering this time. I am extremely aware of his lips, which are now only three inches from my own.

I quickly closed the small gap between us, touching my lips to his. It wasn't anything particularly special, but it was enough to warm that stupid organ in my chest. His lips tasted like mint and he smelt like guy soap and guy shampoo. Overwhelming in the best way. I circle my arms around his neck as he sighs contentedly and leans a little more into the kiss. That's all I really needed. I ruffle his wet hair before pulling away to kiss his cheek, along his jaw, and on the tip of his nose. I stepped back, enjoying the hazed look on his face.

"I trust you." I said again, patting him on the cheek before twirling on my heels and walking towards the door. I hear him attempting to form coherent words, but I ignore him as I close the door softly, closing it with a click.

I'm beaming like a million watt light bulb as I make my way to his bed. My head doesn't hurt anymore, but I could always use a post-good-night's-sleep nap. So I settle myself onto the mattress and breathe deeply, inhaling the fantastically familiar scent. I realized his sheets smelt like his shampoo and his soap, with a touch of mint. _Mama could get use to this._

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><p><strong>I hate to nag but... REVIEW, pretty please with a cherry on top.<strong>


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